At Any Price
by shinealightonme
Summary: What was Syaoran thinking as he made the most painful sacrifice of his life?


Author's Note: This is my first fanfiction, so please, reviews/advice/constructive criticism is most welcome, but be gentle! And yes I know, this is not the most creative story in the world. I thought I would do a sort of test drive with this story first, so I just sort of retold the first scene at Yuuko's shop – but I'm working on another Tsubasa story with an original story line. Might be awhile before that's up though – AP tests and killer English teachers make Alexi a very busy girl. Oh! All names/dialogue comes straight from the Del Ray publication of the manga.

Disclaimer: If I owned Tsubasa, all the angst in the recent chapters would be conspicuous by its absence.

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Reality twists and distorts itself around the boy. Ignorant of what is going to happen, he clutches the girl in his arms even more tightly than before. He feels as though he is sinking and flying at the same time, and the sensation reminds him of the wings that had sprung from the girl's back not so long ago, the wings he has to retrieve.

How? He is not a pessimist, but he finds little hope in this situation. He knows so little and his mind fills the gaps with horrible speculation which he grimly ignores. Sakura will be alright.

The moment of passage is over and so is the unsettling feeling of motion. He and the girl are exactly the same as before – they have not even moved – but everything else is different. If he takes a moment to observe this place, he will notice just _how_ different. It is more than the strange buildings and clothes and customs – he has studied too many cultures and traveled to too many foreign countries to be surprised by that. There is something stronger yet more subtle about this difference. The air, the atmosphere pressing down on him, even his movements, all feel unusual and unnatural. There is just the slightest hint that this is somewhere new, that _this is not home._

He does not notice this. He does not notice the tall buildings around or the rain that falls lightly on him or the people watching him from a distance. All he notices is the woman standing in front of him radiating mystery and magic. This had to be the person Yukito-san had told him about. He scrabbles to remember the title he heard a few seconds and a world ago.

"Are you..." he falters, feeling unreal. His whole life has just been upset and he is still shaking. How can this all have happened? How is he here, in a place he never dreamed of, talking to someone he never heard of, trying to rescue the girl from an affliction he never could have imagined?

It is not important. He is going to find the person who can save the girl. His determination returns, having failed him only for the briefest second, and he finishes his question. "Are you the Space Time Witch?"

"I have been called that," the woman says calmly. Perhaps she is used to desperate teenagers descending from the sky to land in her front yard. Perhaps, as the look in her eyes suggests, she knew he was coming before he did.

His instructions were: find the witch, and beg. Having completed the first satisfactorily, he pleads, "Would you please...I need you to save Sakura!!" He cannot hide the fear from his voice and does not care. He feels as though he has been stripped down to his bare soul, all his thoughts and emotions visible to those calm eyes. So he is not really that surprised when the witch asks, "This child's name is Sakura, isn't it?"

"Yes!"

"And you?"

He wonders if that penetrating gaze could see through walls. "I'm Syaoran."

The witch kneels and puts a hand near the girl's forehead. "This child has lost something very precious." This time it is not a question. He replies "Yes," anyway, wondering if the witch is using the same memory-reading trick that the priest had. It saves him the trouble of explaining something he does not fully understand, so he is grateful.

The witch looks up at him again and he thinks he sees a trace of sadness in her eyes. He decides he is imagining things, though, for the woman's voice, while soft, lacks any emotion. "And...that something had been scattered to many different worlds. If nothing is done, this child will die."

He cannot look into those cool, polite eyes. He grits his teeth and buries his face in the girl's hair. He does not want to hear those words, even though he already knew this.

The witch stands, shedding some of her mystery and becoming rather businesslike. "Watanuki?"

A stranger that the boy has completely failed to notice steps forward. "Y-yes?" He is much less composed than the witch.

"Go to our treasure room," the witch orders, "There is something I need you to bring back."

Hope returns tentatively to the boy's heart. This sounds promising. As Watanuki is dragged off by two young girls, the witch turns to face the boy again. As she asks him, "You wish to save this child?" she sounds no more than casually interested.

He shouts "Yes!!" with enough intensity to make up for the woman's unconcerned air. Wings, crossing dimensions – he doesn't know these things, but he knows that he wants to save Sakura. He clings to this one sure thing even as the strange and the bizarre surround him and threaten to engulf him.

"There is a price. Are you still willing?" Her words remind him of hot desert afternoons in Clow at the marketplace, merchants promoting their wares and bragging about their prices. In the older days there was his father, who could always bargain for the best deal. In the more recent days there was Sakura, who would rejoice at having slipped away from her brother's careful watch and smile at the people as they gave her gifts.

The witch's tone, though, dispels these pleasant reminiscences. Her voice holds a warning that his answer must be final, that there will be no chance to turn back and change his mind. It hints at how completely the next few minutes will separate him from his past and the life he led.

He has no intention of turning back and hardly cares about the life he led. "I will pay any price I can!"

The witch glances at the sky that so recently dropped the two teenagers in her yard. She grins, or rather, smirks at the clouds above. The boy is too preoccupied to wonder at the fact that no rain falls on her upturned face. "Here they come." She seems mildly amused by the statement, either because of its meaning or because she knows something he doesn't.

Despite this prediction, he is shocked when the two men arrive. Their appearance is so sudden and so strange that they seem at first to be something more than flesh-and-blood. His mind is so strained by worry and guilt that he imagines it is an angel and a demon come to earth, one to take the girl and the other to punish him for failing her.

But the moment passes and the men now seem to be just that – men. They are wearing odd clothes and they landed rather abruptly, but that does not make them any stranger than the rest of the poor boy's evening.

They speak at the same time, the blond's polite query, "Are you the Dimensional Witch?" drowned out by the dark man's coarser question of "Who the hell are you?" Each notices the other's presence and they exchange looks.

The dark man is distrustful and measures how much of a threat the other might be. He decides that the danger is not too great and leaves his sword in its sheath, but he stands upright and demonstrates his rather intimidating stature just for good measure.

The blond's face temporarily betrays his surprise. He looks as though he is trying to figure out where his calculations went wrong and what he needs to change to account for this error. The expression is too fleeting for the boy to be sure, but he thinks the man is anxious about this development.

The boy wonders how to respond. Do these men pose a threat to the princess? He is a little annoyed that they are interrupting his business with the witch at such a critical time, but this irritation is tied up with worry and curiosity. He wants to know more about these men, to determine how they will affect him, but also just to know. So he does not mind too much when the witch nods and says "Please give me your names first."

The warrior examines his surroundings and the boy realizes suddenly that he has not yet looked at this place he is in. He gapes at the buildings as the dark man answers, almost distractedly. "Me? I'm Kurogane. What is this place?"

The witch can no longer hide her glee. "It's called Japan," and the boy does not need to look at her face to know she is grinning mischievously.

"Eh? My country's called Japan, too."

The witch responds as though she knew this and was waiting for him to say so. "Yes. A different Japan."

Kurogane sounds confident even as he admits his confusion. "I'm not getting any of this," he growls, implying that things had better start making sense, or else.

The witch does not attempt to relieve him of his confusion just yet, choosing instead to address the pale man. "And you?"

The man bows, a small smile gracing his lips. Any hint of confusion or worry is long gone, replaced by charm as he introduces himself as "The wizard of Seresu, Fai D. Flowright."

She gives him the same look she gave the others, as though she is learning much more about him that he means her to. "Do you know where you are?" she asks, her voice once again businesslike.

"Yes," the wizard answers automatically, as though he is reciting a lesson. "A place where any wish can be granted if a suitable price is paid."

The witch responds like a teacher praising a favorite student. "That's exactly it."

Now something changes. It is like the changes between worlds – small and subtle but profound, and the boy is completely oblivious to it. The witch speaks again, this time to all of her guests.

It is the first time that they are addressed as a single group.

"The reason why all of you are here is because each of you has a wish."

Once again the two men interrupt each other, and once again their words contrast with each other. "My home world – "

" – is where I want to be."

" – is the place I do not want to be."

The ninja glares at the blond man, who pretends he does not notice the offense his request has caused.

The witch considers these requests. "That is a tall order for both of you." This simple sentence gives the boy two more troubling thoughts – that the witch cannot help Sakura after all, and that she really has forgotten him. She seems to read his thoughts, although he is careful to censor any doubt from his face.

"No," she muses, thinking out loud. "For all three of you." This calms one of his fears, although it does nothing for his main concern, and her next words only scare him more.

"Even if you offered the most precious things you own, none of you has enough to pay."

It feels as though now he is the one who has lost his heart. He looks at her face, the sweet face of the girl he loves. She looks peaceful, but this does nothing for his trouble mind. His despair almost makes him miss the witch's next words.

"If all three paid together, you may just be able to afford it."

He doesn't understand. What do Sakura's feathers have to do with these two strangers? If he could think clearly, he might see the connection, but he is utterly drained. He never before realized how exhausting emotions can be. He manages to grasp the idea that things might not be hopeless, however, so he stares at the witch and waits for her to explain.

He is not the only one confused by the witch's words. The warrior asks, in his eloquent way, "What kind of crap are you spouting?"

The pale man politely reprimands him. "Mr. Black, can you keep your insults down?"

The warrior has had the kind of long and unpleasant day that would test the patience of a saint – which he is not. "I'm not 'Mr. Black!' I'm Kurogane!"

The witch ignores this and continues undeterred by the murderous glances the ninja is shooting at the world in general. "All three of your wishes are the same."

This is news to her clients; the two men think that their wishes were opposites. Each glances at the boy out of the corner of his eye, wondering what his wish is and what it could possibly have to do with their feelings about their respective homelands. They are not curious for long, though, because the witch chooses, for once, to explain her puzzling statement.

"You want to go to many worlds in order to restore the memory of this child." It is not a question, but the boy nods anyway; he has to do something besides sit and hold his princess. There is too much nervous energy inside him to be contained.

"You want to return to your own world. You want to go to different worlds to avoid returning to your own." As the two men nod, they begin to see where the witch's logic is leading them. It seems crazy, but none of them dares to move or raise an objection, as though this deal is a nervous creature that might be scared away.

"You have different reasons but the method is the same. Travel to different dimensions...that is what you need. Each of you individually cannot make that wish happen. However, if the three of you combine payment for one wish, then you can afford it."

The boy marvels at just how expensive inter-dimensional travel is while the wizard resigns himself to traveling with companions. The ninja, more practical than patient, asks the obvious question. "Then what would my payment be?"

The witch stares at him, extends a hand, and says the two words he least wants to hear: "Your sword."

The boy knows little about swords but the man's possessive reaction makes it clear that this is a rather special weapon. Conversation ensues when the man refuses and is warned that he has no alternative. The boy does not really listen to this discussion because his mind is too busy trying to predict what sacrifice will be asked of him. He cannot even guess. Whatever it is, he will pay it. He is a little concerned; he has no sword or anything expensive, so what could she possibly ask him that would be worth the ability to cross dimensions? Perhaps he has something of value and he never even knew about. He stops his reflections with the thought that life is funny like that.

He takes stock of the situation: the sword is floating beside the witch, so the dark man seems to have agreed to her demand. The blond is attempting to bargain, but the witch is determined: "I told you, the price is the thing you value most."

The wizard sighs and smiles hollowly. "I guess I have no choice." As he says these words, a marking appears behind him and floats through the air until it reaches the witch.

After this rather prolonged interruption, she turns her gaze back to the boy, and notices he has become only more determined than before. She marvels that it is possible for so much fierce dedication to exist in one person. "What about you? Now is the time to hand over your item of highest value. And you will be able to travel the worlds."

"Fine!" the boy exclaims, almost before the witch has finished speaking.

She considers his response, her expression carefully neutral. "You realize that I haven't named the price yet."

"Yes!" he answers, quieter but just as confident.

She still has a warning, because it would be bad business to let a customer pay under false pretenses. "The only thing I can do is send you to other worlds. Finding the child's memories is something you will have to do."

He pauses for a moment before accepting these terms, but accepts them all the same. "Fine."

The witch smiles. She knows how much suffering and heartbreak lie ahead for this boy, but she also knows that is he knew, he would be just as determined. "I like you attitude," she says. She has seen all kinds of people and appreciates how rare that kind of strength is.

The stranger from before comes running out, holding two bizarre creatures. They are small and round, one black and one white. This makes the boy think of all the contrast in his life lately; the wizard and the ninja, the desert heat in Clow and the rain in this foreign world, the happiness he felt when he saw Sakura at lunch and the fear he felt when he saw her wings dissolve and fly away.

The witch takes the white creature from her breathless assistant and holds it up. "The name of this young one is Mokona Modoki," she says, as if this is a complete explanation. "Mokona will lead you through the worlds."

The black creature waves to its companion, startling the boy and drawing the ninja's attention. "Hey, you got an extra. Give it to me. I'll go home with that."

The flustered assistant wishes passionately to be somewhere else, to work for someone with a normal business and a normal clientele, but this is one wish the witch will not grant. She does, however, speak to the warrior, so that he is no longer glaring in the assistant's direction. This is a small step in the right direction as far as that boy is concerned.

"No, that's how we keep in contact. The only power this one has is to stay in communication with Mokona." The witch says this as though it were rather obvious. The boy supposes it might be, for people who are used to dealing with magic. Then again, the boy is the kind of person who usually gives people the benefit of the doubt. The ninja, less of an optimist, assumes the witch simply talks that way because she enjoys frustrating people and knowing things they don't.

Her tone is less playful as she discusses the details of their journey. "Mokona will take you to different dimensions, but there is no way to control which dimension. For that reason, only fate will decide when your wishes will be granted." Her voice is hypnotic. The boy finds that his troubled mind is clearing and that his surroundings are becoming more solid and more distant at the same time.

"However, there is no coincidence in the world. What there is is 'hitsuzen.'" She says this in a dreamy sort of way that most women use to talk about their lovers or their children. "And what brought you together was also 'hitsuzen.'"

She blinks and the boy knows he will not like the next thing he hears. He has no power to halt time or make it run backwards. The only power he has is to accept these words and deal with the reality they create. "Syaoran, your price is your relationship. The thing you value the most is your relationship with her. So that is your price."

He has trouble accepting this. "My price? But how..." His throat tightens and all he can do is stare helplessly at the woman who asks so much of him.

The witch is careful to sound completely impersonal as she explains. She does not let her sympathy for him show – business is business, after all, and she can grant no wish without receiving the proper payment. "Even if this child's memories are completely restored...your relationship with her will never be the same again." There is the question she must ask, but that is not the one she asks next. She will give him time before she asks that. "So what is she to you?"

He stares at the girl's face as though the answers are there. They aren't. The answers are in his memories, memories that will very soon be his alone. The answers themselves will soon be lies, but he speaks anyway. "A childhood friend...and the princess of a country...and..." the hardest of all to say, but he manages to whisper it somehow, "and a girl who is precious to me."

The witch has a distant look in her eyes, as though she is also watching the boy's memories. "I see. However, if you want to accept Mokona, that relationship will end. Even if you retrieve all of her memories, the one memory that you will never retrieve will be her memory of you. That is my price."

He does not look up from the princess. Her hair is soaking wet and the rain traces lines across her cheeks just as tears would. For this second, the shortest second of his life, she is still his Sakura, and she is all that exists. There are no painful choices, no powerful magic, no strangers trying to hide their pity. But the second is over when the witch asks the question.

"Will you still pay it?"

The boy feels sick. _So this is what it was. The one valuable thing I had._ But a choice between her life and his happiness is no choice at all. "Let's go. I will not let Sakura die!"

The witch warns the boy of the complexities of cross-dimensional travel. He nods and listens attentively, but as the white creature swallows him up and he feels that curious dissolving feeling, he has to disagree with the witch. The journey will be difficult, but it will also be the simplest thing in the world. He will not let Sakura die, so she will not die. Everything else is just details.


End file.
